The Felon's Track eBook

And what was the world to me, love,
Or why should its honours divide
The feelings that centred in thee, love,
As fondly you clung to my side;
Or why should ambition or glory,
E’er tempt me to wander so far,
For sake of distinction in story,
From thee, my heart’s faithfulest star.

Or why should I call thee
mine own, love,
To sport with
the life that was thine,
Or risk for a land overthrown,
love,
A stake that no
longer was mine;
Or why should I pledge for
the fallen
What only belonged
to the free;
For had I not gauged life
and all on
The faith that
was plighted to thee?

And here, while I wander alone,
love,
Beneath the cold
shadows of night,
Or lie with my head on a stone,
love,
Awaiting the dawning
of light,
My spirit unthralled is returning,
Where far from
the coward and slave,
Her beacon of love is still
burning,
To light, to direct
me and save.

And she, too, who watches
beside thee,
And loves as none
other could love,
To counsel, to cherish and
guide thee.
To weep with,
but never reprove—­
Yes, she too, is lone and
unguarded,
The reed she had
leant on in twain,
And though her trust thus
be rewarded,
She’d love
that love over again.

COOLMOUNTAIN WOOD.

At Cork two families were compromised by my prolonged
stay, one of them irretrievably, if I were arrested.
However, they placed themselves entirely and unconditionally
at my disposal. I stated my objections to the
proposed conveyance of a coal boat to Wales, where
I would be equally exposed as in Ireland, and have
infinitely less sympathy or assistance. I suggested
one of the London steamers instead, which they agreed
to. After some preliminary negotiations, a person
connected with one of those vessels promised to secrete
me and have me landed at Southampton, where I could
easily procure a passage to France. Just as this
arrangement was concluded, news arrived that Tipperary
was again in arms, under the command of my friend,
O’Mahony. The report added that I was associated
with him in command. Hour after hour brought some
story stranger than that which preceded it; but in
each and all I found myself figuring in some character
or other, all, of course, contrary to the truth.
This fact led at once to a suspicion of the accuracy
of the whole. But I was aware that caution was
a leading characteristic of O’Mahony’s
genius, and I felt assured he would not attempt any
open movement without strong probabilities of success.
The fabrications about myself I reconciled to the
belief that he wished it to appear he had my sanction
and support. The vessel was to sail next day,
and I should determine at once, or risk the safety
of the family who protected me. I endeavoured